


Castiel needs a hug, Crowley

by OntheMeander, rooneytoony



Series: A.Z. Fell and Co.'s Reluctant Counseling Services [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Supernatural
Genre: Angel/Demon Relationship, Bad Advice, Bookshop Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Couch Cuddles, Crack Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Ducks, Endgame Castiel/Dean Winchester, Feral Behavior, Fluff and Crack, Horny Crowley (Good Omens), Hugging, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Possibly Unrequited Love, Relationship Advice, Season/Series 15, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Therapy, needs more queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27445249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OntheMeander/pseuds/OntheMeander, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rooneytoony/pseuds/rooneytoony
Summary: Crowley arrives to the bookshop to find that his date night has been ruined by some sad trench coat wearing angel (and he thought the tartan was bad).
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: A.Z. Fell and Co.'s Reluctant Counseling Services [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016926
Comments: 13
Kudos: 356





	Castiel needs a hug, Crowley

The doors to the bookshop threw open, letting in the frigid autumn air. A lanky man in skin-tight leather jeans belted out, "Angel! Angel where are you?"

A confused head pops up behind a dusty bookcase, "... Over here?"

"Not you."

Oh joy, his angel had a visitor and Crowley could choke on the gloom in the air. No late-night couch cuddles tonight.

Crowley probably should’ve remembered the trenchcoat-wearing angel. In the days of their arrangement, both Crowley and Aziraphale had taken extra care in familiarizing themselves with all angels and demons that regularly visited Earth. For their own protection of course. Trenchcoat was a newer batch, made under the watchful eye of Gabriel and co., so a markedly less fun lot in Crowley’s mind. He was made after Crowley fell, came to Earth for the first time in the early 2000s, and wasn’t a regular in England, so even though they had met before, you couldn’t blame Crowley for not knowing his name. He never liked that lot, a bunch of New Testament brats, too young to be taken seriously and too old to take a joke. 

Lucky for him, a worried voice came from the back of the bookshop, preventing this from being known by Trenchcoat. “Here in the kitchen, Crowley!” 

Crowley wasted no time speeding to the back, knowing Aziraphale would explain why the other angel was there. 

In the small kitchen, Aziraphale was on his knees, digging through to the far back of the wine cabinet. Where he keeps the _really_ good stuff. Crowley took a moment for himself to just sit back and enjoy the view.

“Dear, is that you?” Angel asked slowly pulling out of the cabinet, to put on the floor beside him, four large bottles clutched by the neck. 

“Ah, one of those nights.” Crowley casually voiced as he knelt next to Aziraphale.

“Yes, one of those nights. Come closer. What are you craving tonight? Red or white?” 

“You.” He purred, flicking out his forked tongue suggestively. 

Aziraphale could feel a sudden weight slither up his back. He glanced behind at the large black snake snuggling against his body. “Crowley, what are you doing?”

“Looksss like I’m not getting any alone time with you tonight, ssso I’m enjoying what I can get now.” The giant snake sighed into Aziraphel’s ear and gave him a gentle squeeze. Tight, but not preventing him from completing his search. “Who isss he?”

“You remember Castiel, don’t you? He was technically a Brigadier general under my command during the apocalypse. He’s very nice.”

“After my time Angel. Never meet the new batch of angelsssss that replassssed ussss.”

“Oh...” Aziraphale made that quite anxious huff that Crowley loved. “Quite right. Well, he has come for a visit, haven’t seen him since my little assignment in Massachusetts. The McCloskey-Kadish case.”

“Ah yesss, he’s the one who’s been sssstomping around in America.” Crowley added, remembering that miserable set of years where the Gardner had a ‘family emergency’ and he was left to tend to all the Dowling’s needs. Kids were easy to look after, Mr. and Mrs. Dowling’s brawling marriage was another matter. Drove Crowley to madness, nearly discorporated himself out of spite, “What’sss he doing here?”

“He’s very upset. He hasn’t yet told me what happened, but I think it involves a human?” Since the not apocalypse and the public outing of their relationship, every now and then angels and demons have come to the pair for advice on Earthly matters. Not that they’re ever really helpful… 

“What is it now? Accidentally did too obvious of a miracle? Used too much strength patting a priest on the back? Revealed himself to some evangelical nutjob that wants to start the apocalypse now?” Someone help them if that was the case, Crowley still had nightmares of the 1950-80s when someone in heaven, probably Sandalphon, had pushed some initiative to be more public in human life. He was hoping to have more converts, what they got were a lot of serial killers, cult leaders, and area 51. 

Whatever the little runt’s problem was, it wasn’t Crowley’s concern. Frankly, he would rather tell him to piss off and spend the rest of the day doing much better things with His Angel.

“We are not a counssseling ssservice.” Crowley groaned, much more interested in trying to slip into the gap of Aziraphale collar and nestle in close to warm skin.

“Crowley, I suspect he and this human are _very_ close. He wants our advice.” Someone bless it, Crowley could see his good night slipping through his fingers. Relationships between humans and celestial beings are always tricky. Most relations broke the various guidelines in the handbook for employees at each home office. Even if they didn’t it is hard to relate to a person who’s seen at most 80 years of your life spanning millennia. Humans are ingenious creatures, but best kept at an arm's distance, lest you repeatedly break your heart over them. This was going to be a long night. Crowley sighed, “Better grab a few more bottlesss.” 

There was the sound of doors being thrown open and the squawk of leather shoes as Castiel bustled into the kitchen. “Aziraphale, Sir. I was-” 

Crowley stopped moving, head buried deep along the folds of Aziraphale’s belly. “I didn’t know you had a pet, sir.”

“Just Aziraphale, please.” Aziraphale corrected, petting Crowley’s long body. Crowley hummed, feeling his grip slip as he relaxed, “And this isn’t-”

“I am not a pet, you fool,” Crowley hissed, snapping his massive jaws at the other angel.

“Be nice, Crowley.” Aziraphale lightly swatted at his nose. Crowley replying with a good-natured flash of fangs and copious head butts. Aziraphale’s hair was soft today and smelled of old parchment.

“Crowley!?” Castiel sounded shocked, even a bit scared. His shoulders were tense like he was ready for a fight. Rolling his eyes, Crowley slithered off of Aziraphale’s torso, morphing back into his human form, standing tall.

“That’s the name, kid.” Fishing out a pair of sunglasses to put them back on.

“But you’re not...” Castiel was panicked, looking between the snake demon and Aziraphale who was still solidly inside the cabinet. He was starting to look like he was stuck there.

“I’m not what?”

“You’re not Crowley. I know Crowley, He-” 

Crowley sneered, with superhuman speed he snatched up Castiel’s tie, pulling the man painfully close.

“Watch what you say.” He whispered, sunglasses slipping to show his flashing yellow snake eyes. “I’ve been Crowley longer than you’ve been alive.” 

“But... I-”

“Whoever you met was probably some two-bit demon who stole my name... No imagination down there.” It’s hard being famous. 

Focusing back to Aziraphale, Crowley picked up the numerous bottles and made a beeline for the plush couch in the corner of the store. “Now come on let’s get this therapy session over with.” The two angels followed him, Azirpahle settling down onto the couch, while Castile took up space on the overstuffed armchair. 

Aziraphale handed the man an empty wine glass, “So Castiel, what did you want to talk about?”

“I’m not sure where to begin.” Castiel nervously says, his voice sounds horse, tracing the top of the empty wine glass with his fingers.

“We begin with us all getting drunk! Then we can talk about feelings.” Crowley filled Castiel’s glass up to the brim, despite the disapproving look Aziraphale gave him at the action. “Then you will kombi ya and fly off into the sunset, while I take this one to the bed where he belongs.”

“Crowley.” Aziraphale gave a half-hearted reproach. Crowley gave back his widest toothy grin, handing over a filled glass.

“Drink up, Angel.”

The wine was poured, then drank, then repoured again. Over and over till the table between them was littered with empty wine bottles, almost enough to set up an impromptu chessboard with the whites and the red. Aziraphale kept the young angel talking, trying to pull him out of some deep despair with the light conversation of his time amongst the human race. Just as the clock struck midnight, Aziraphale filled his glass one more time and settled back.

Crowley sips his fifth glass of wine, “Tell us exactly what happened.”

“I told Dean I love him.” _Oh good lord_ Crowley thought, instantly downed his entire glass at that, picking up a random bottle and chugged that as well. This was going to be worse than the 14th century.

Aziraphale looked equally concerned, “And?”

Castiel sank into himself, the armchair practically devouring him. He looked young and miserable, just like every millennial Crowley ever knew, human and celestial. “I don’t know what I expected. I thought I wouldn’t care.” Castiel said, “That just telling him would be enough. I told him everything. How he’s changed me. How I feel... I told him I loved him and he just stared.” 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley, a deep-set frown on his face. That wasn’t much to go off of. Looks could mean anything and it wasn’t like there was a manual for dealing with human emotions. Crowley had better insight, but that didn’t mean they were positive opinions on the matter. “Americans.” He grumbled, “An emotionally volatile lot. I am sure he has a gun in one hand and a flag in the other at all times.”

Castiel seemed to instantly perk up, almost excited to be able to talk about this man he was so distraught over, “Actually he has several guns. He and his brother Sam are hunters. They drive all over the country in his Impala fighting supernatural monsters.”

“Hunters?” Aziraphale groaned, instantly dreading having to deal with another Shadwell type. Witchfinders, hunters, that entire demographic was littered with idiotic fools. What is the good lord’s name had Castiel gotten himself mixed up in?

Crowley had more pressing issues to address, “Tacky taste in cars as well.”

“That is not the point right now, Dear. Castiel, please... you were saying.” 

“I thought I would be fine, but I just... anything... if he did anything to tell me how he felt, it would’ve been better than that blank look on his face. Anger or a smile… anything…”

None of them spoke. Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale was strangers to a missed confession. Crowley still had nightmares about their disastrous duck pond rendezvous turned spat in the 1890s. They had both been obtuse to the other’s true feelings. While being together now was wonderful, the pain from those memories had not been forgotten.

“My dear, humans, despite their short lives, take time to process these things.” Aziraphale said, “The moment sounds like quite a shocking experience. After all that, he knows he cares for you, but he needs to figure out what that means for himself. Give him time.”

“We didn’t really have time. I was sent away almost instantly.”

“How did you end up here?”

“I am not sure. All I remember is blackness then I woke up and I’m laying on the floor.” Castiel admits. Crowley looks at Aziraphale hoping for a better answer.

“He just materialized,” Aziraphale presented a small folded piece of paper from his vest pocket. “This was pinned to him.” Crowley unfolded the page, inside was a crude drawing of a crying man in a trench coat. Beside him was a boy in a striped shirt, a boy with glasses, a girl in a red poncho, and a third boy with his dog hugging the man.

“Adam!?” Crowley was shocked. The boy still had that much power? Aziraphale simply nodded.

“I thought I was going to the deepest part of hell,” Castiel confessed, giving them wide-eyed confusion. Crowley burst out into laughter, nearly falling off the couch as Aziraphale began to pout.

“Well, that’s just rude.” His Angel huffed. Crowley laughed even harder as Azriphale shot him an annoyed look. Giving a put upon sigh, he put his glass aside, “You haven’t spoken to Dean yet?”

“No. There wasn't time and words are not his best skill.”

“What do you even see in this human?” Crowley had to ask. There had to be something that was putting the poor angel into such a state.

“Dean is... Dean is an amazing man. Yes, he is human, but he is the kind of brave that can look a Lucifer in the eyes and tell it to die in a hole. The kind of brave that races to help another person no matter how much danger that puts him in. The kind of brave that would willingly jump into the pits of hell to save humanity. He is brave and loving. " A small sad smile grew on Castiel's face, "He has taken care of himself and little brother for years since they were kids. He would give anything to make sure Sam is happy. He has seen so much bad in this world but still chooses to fight for others. To keep them safe, even if he loses everything in the process. He loves pie and his car, never dare to change his music or you will never hear the end of it. He never knows when to shut his mouth." Aziraphale actually had the gall to snort with laughter at that, looking directly at Crowley in understanding, "He is so full of life. A constant distraction, someone who makes me forget the..." Castiel let out a week pitiful groan, rubbing his hands through his hair tiredly. "He is a good man. He is so amazing because he is human.” 

From their spot on the couch, the demon and angel could see tears forming in Castiel’s eyes as he looked into his wine glass. “He makes me feel worthy of being loved.”

“He sounds wonderful, dear.” Aziraphale was glowing. Crowley recognized it immediately. It’s how Aziraphale looked whenever he sensed a great amount of love. “You’ve been through so much together. You have to talk to him.”

Castiel shook his head no, playing with the stem of his glass. “Maybe it’s for the best if I don’t. He should be allowed to move on with his life… without me.”

The pain was something Crowley used too, as a demon it’s bad practically an aphrodisiac to him. He could usually laugh in the face of anyone’s suffering, but there was something so innocent and painful in Castiel’s voice. Like it was the first true loss of his life, that made the old snake pause.

Crowley knew an incoming pity party when he saw one. He had had plenty for himself that lasted centuries over Aziraphale’s rejections. If he’s learned anything from those years he and Azriaphale wasted not being happy together, it was that life’s too short even for celestial beings. “Listen, mate, you can’t sit here and say it’s for the best if you're going to be miserable for eternity over something you don’t know for certain.” 

Castiel gave a half-hearted nod like he was agreeing, but only so they would stop talking about it. Crowley stood up, towering over the other man, forcing Castiel to look at him, “Trust us that kind of thing will eat away at you. You think hell is bad, it’s nothing compared to your own mind playing games with itself.” 

Aziraphale stood up as well, placing a gentle hand on the other angel’s shoulder, “You should go to him. At the very least, he’d be happy to know you’re ok.”

“But what if he rejects me?”

“Than good riddance. Sounds like an idiot anyways.” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale however gave the man a small smile.

“I won’t lie, it will probably hurt, but knowing will be better in the long run. Besides, what if he doesn’t reject you? Even if it’s short. Your happiness is something worth enjoying together.”

Castiel looked unsure, but he nodded, rubbing at his eyes. He was tired, but the pair were right. It would be a hard conversation, but if Dean reciprocated his feelings, it would be worth it.

“Now come here,” Aziraphale said arms wide open for a hug, an even larger smile on his plump face.

“Oh no.” Crowley bemoaned trying to pull back, “Absolutely not, Angel.”

“Yes, my dear.” He waved him in, even as Castiel already had his arms wrapping around Aziraphale’s soft belly.

“No!” Crowly stepped backward. He was a demon, he did not do hugs. “No group hugs Angel. I am a Demon, we don't’ do hugs!”

“You do.” Aziraphale teased. 

“That’s disgusting.”

A fierce sharpness came into the principality's eyes, “Crowley, come here now.” With a snap of his fingers, Crowley was suddenly pulled up against Aziraphale’s side and Castile’s back. Aziraphale instantly closed his arms around the two of them, squeezing them in close with bruising power and pure angelic love.

After several agonizing minutes, Castiel started to squirm, “Something is going on... I feel... I feel.”

“Love?” Aziraphale asked, knowing how that particular tingling would steadily grow up his spine. 

“Dean.” Castiel’s breath caught. “I need to go.”

“We told you!” Crowley punched the air. “Now come on, better not keep the boy waiting.” Crowley started pushing Castiel out the door. “It’s been a lovely time. Best of luck. I am sure it will be fine. You’re one in a million. He would be crazy not to want an angel. We will miss you. We should do this again, but not too soon.”

Aziraphale waved, “You are welcome back anytime, dear boy.”

“Wait! Before I go,” Castiel quickly headed back to Aziraphale, pulling out the cell phone from his tech pocket. “Can I have your number? I can call you after or if it goes poorly...” He let the sentence die unsure of what he would truly do. Instead, he handed the phone to Aziraphle who slowly took the device and stared at it petrified.

“Yes.. well... Of course. I will just... umm... Right I will just put my number into this... cellular telephone. Right,” Azirpahle mumbled, embarrassed, fumbling with it and nearly dropping the phone. 

Crowley removed the phone from Aziraphale’s grip before he broke it. Typed in his own number quickly and handed the phone back to Castiel. “No need to call. Pop in anytime, but if you see a sock on the door, we’re busy.”

Castiel blushed and walked to the middle of the room. He glanced at the pair and gave them a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

And then he was gone. Finally, Crowley had his angel all to himself. As the dust settled in the book shop, Crowley was quick to slide back into Aziraphale’s sphere, slipping a hand into the back of Aziraphale’s trouser pockets.

“Thank you for coming to help, Darling.”

“Technically, I came over because you asked if I would be ‘tempted’ into sharing some wine,” Crowley whined, rubbing his forehead into the nook of Aziraphale’s neck.

“Yes, and I gave you plenty of wine, didn't I?”

“But Angel, you know I hear ‘tempt’ and think you mean-” His sentence was cut off as Azriphale pulled him in close by the hips.

“You are so very nice my dear.”

“I am not nice!” He growled as Azirphale sealed his lips over Crowley’s. He tasted of honey and wine and Crowley was content to forgive him for anything. And for a while things seemed to have settled until one day, while Crowley and Aziraphale were otherwise engaged, their phone vibrated with an incoming message. 

**_GUYS HOW DO YOU HAVE SEX WITH HUMANS!!!!!_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations to all the SPN fans who put in the genuine time, energy and love to the series. As a old fan I know how mug this must mean to you. Thank you for letting these old as dirty fans have their fun little go at the more absurdist bits.
> 
> It’s all with love, we swear.


End file.
